Escape
by Stewthewriter1
Summary: A troubled young prawn seeks a way out of his life via cat food addiction and the resistance, but there are a lot more secrets waiting to be found in District 9.


Escape

_With the departure of the mother ship a year before and the revelation of atrocities committed by MNU against the prawn race, long standing plans to move the beings to another camp near the city had been shelved for good. Public opinion had come in support of the aliens and against the actions of the big conglomerate company. Now efforts would now be made to integrate the aliens into mainstream society, with a partial relaxation of the strict regulations allowing aliens to work in the city and the ban of prawns having to register eggs with MNU._

_Some humans had even come out and offered the beings a home with them outside of the district!_

_In effect the actions of a few individuals during one day had set in place a social revolution of sorts._

_So for now at least District 9 remains as it was before that fateful day…._

Chapter 1

Impertinent, fearless, dangerous, youthful.

These were some of the adjectives used to describe Barnaby Forbes, a 68 year old (in human terms) 'prawn' living in the District 9 shantytown, Johannesburg.

He lived with his father, David; mother Ellen and brother, Patrick.

His father had been a scientist on the ship, before it had been marooned over Johannesburg. Now he eked out a living fixing the various broken down vehicles which MNU brought to their shack for repairs, all of which for a paltry sum of money and slabs of fly blown meat.

Once they knew he had his uses to them (vis-a-vas other prawns), they had treated him better (only slightly anyway)

But not by much, that was for sure.

Ellen Forbes acted as the 'house wife', helping to school young Patrick along with a group of other wife-lets.

Barnaby himself spent his days sorting through mounds of garbage and selling it on the more useful things to the other prawns, who would buy any old bit of rubbish in exchange for cans of cat food.

Slowly but surely however, Barnaby himself, like many prawns, was becoming dependant on this pet food to survive.

It was precious to him, like a narcotic, and had so far gotten him into lots of trouble with MNU and into fights with his own kind!

Both his mother and father despaired for him.

But he wasn't alone in living like this, many more of his people were going the same way, with some prawns whispering of human plots to drive their kind wild with addiction and then let them wipe each other out in fits of madness.

Whilst it was true that David Forbes decried the condition to which his son had fallen, he wasn't at all surprised. Many of the prawn kind had been stricken by the same ailment ever since they had landed here.

The fact that, by and large, Barnaby was something of a loner had not saved him at all.

This fact saddened David more than anything else. He had tried to bring his son up in the ways of his ancestors, but Barnaby had been a youngling when the ship had ended up on Earth.

Thus he had grown up on this planet, absorbing the corrupt and fetid manner in which humans treated each other and his kind.

David remembered that his family had very nearly not made it here, owing to a mysterious sickness which had swept through the ship.

Many of his fellow scientists had been puzzled by the disease, which caused festering sores and resulted in an eventual coma for the patient.

Many more had simply died before a cure could be found…

Oh how he wished, assessing their time spent here, that they hadn't survived, that the virus had taken them as well.

Better sometimes to be dead, he felt, than be enslaved to the ghastly humans and treated like the very garbage that the aliens were forced to live amongst!

David mourned as much for his lost life than the loss of his son.

Even the radiantly coloured platelets of his wife-let had shed because of her constant worrying about Barnaby.

Little Patrick did not say much, but David sensed he too felt sad about his brother. The whole situation embodied their experiences here on Earth.

Chapter 2

Barnaby was of course unworried by this fact as he scurried around the rubbish piles the next day.

He liked to be up early with the sunrise, letting it warm his plates.

A few other prawns were out early, also rummaging around for the best rubbish.

They grunted a few good mornings to him and resumed their work.

It was so early that not even the MNU patrols were on duty yet!

As the morning went on, Barnaby was growing desperate, his exotically coloured plates itching and keen for his next cat food meal. He hadn't found anything of value yet!

The lowly sums of money MNU actually paid his father barely covered the cost of two tins of prime processed meaty goodness.

The young prawn already owed the Nigerian gangsters money for the 'free' tins of food which they had given him when he was at rock bottom.

Now they would pursue him relentlessly, he knew.

His only good friend in the world, Philip, had disappeared some weeks ago after corrupt MNU officials had handed him over to the Nigerians.

He too had owed them money.

Goodness knows what had happened to him, Barnaby could only hope it had been quick and painless. Knowing the Nigerians, he thought, Barnaby somehow doubted it would have been.

"Hey this is my patch, push off youngling!"

A big grey prawn with missing eye, a rudimentary eye patch and yellow streaks, loomed over Barnaby. He was well known in the area as 'Goliath' and it was said that even MNU were afraid of him!

Two other prawns scarpered when Goliath arrived. His true name, he later told Barnaby, was actually Martin.

They had given him a name, but they had also used a blowlamp to take his eye as punishment for violating the nightly curfew, enforced on the district.

"Well I work here too!" Barnaby had petulantly replied.

For his efforts he had received a back handed punch from Martin, which sent him sprawling. The blow broke some of his head plates, causing black blood to ooze down his face.

"Now push off!"

But Barnaby had promised to return the next day.

So the next day he did return, for exactly the same treatment to be meted out!

Then the next day after that as well.

And the next, and the next. This went on until Martin began to admire the resilience of Barnaby Forbes at putting up with his beatings.

Gradually (and grudgingly) he began to let Barnaby forage with him in 'his' patch much to the consternation of the others.

Now it became 'their' patch and the other prawns stayed away. Over time it became clear that the two of them would become friends.

Martin disclosed that he was a member of a resistance cell and that it was he who had put up posters calling for an uprising and the overthrow of MNU.

"Resistance?" Barnaby had exclaimed "I didn't know such an organisation existed!"

"Yes and we are moved to take greater action in light of recent events"

Martin had taken him to a bullet riddled shack nearby.

"This is where, three nights ago, MNU surrounded the building and opened fire on the occupants inside…resistance leader Charles Avery and his sire, Edna"

"You mean MURDERED?" asked Barnaby mournfully, surveying the ruin before him.

Hundreds of brass bullet casings still littered the ground outside the hut.

It seemed MNU were not even concerned enough to conceal the evidence of their crime.

"Yes and then, one night later, the dwelling of Thomas Avery, brother of Charles and the new resistance leader, was set ablaze while he slept"

Murderers! Barnaby thought ruefully.

"They were heard to laugh at how good barbecued prawn might taste as Thomas died inside" Martin added.

"Goddamn humans!"

An MNU notice had been tacked to the door, which pathetically tried to 'apologise' for the past nights disturbances but the family within had been suspected of 'criminal activities' and removed to MNU custody.

Given the presence of bullet holes and casings, it seemed more of a joke than a bare faced lie.

And once again the joke seemed to be on Barnaby, Martin and all of his people.

He grew angrier by the minute and, sensing this, Martin clicked gently.

"Of course we have a new leader now, a strong and brave family man, a scientist…"

Barnaby turned to his friend, realisation written all over his face.

"My father? David Forbes?"

Martin nodded, his one good eye gleaming.

"I knew your father from our time back on the home planet. He said his son was in trouble, needed protecting. I sensed it was you from the moment I saw you, seems like only a troubled soul would to take me on and muscle in on my property!"

"I see…"

"And you have some of his shell colouring too!"

"So I am the son of a rebel leader?"

"Yes you are now, but don't say it too loud or…"

As if on cue, an MNU patrol sidled up to them.

"Hey you two, no loitering in groups around the district! You know the regulations!"

"Well sorry officer, we will just be on our way now" Martin said, a hairs breadth away from tearing the jumped up human apart.

The guards watched the two of them go their separate ways, but not before Martin said:

"Will you join us?"

Barnaby nodded wordlessly.

Chapter 3

A sharp rap at his door drew David away from his work. He opened it and saw two MNU agents.

"Hello Mr Prawn, we are still waiting for our jeep back, have you repaired it yet?"

"Yes, yes…sorry for the delay, I had to source the parts from…"

"A junk heap, yeah we get the picture, prawn. Just so long as it works we don't give a fuck!" the second man said.

With that they got in the vehicle and drove off, leaving a single can of cat food at the door. David kicked it hard away, like a football, his amber eyes narrowing in revulsion.

He watched a few of his neighbours scurry away out of sight; he knew there had been whisperings amongst them of his 'treachery' and that he worked for 'them' mending their broken equipment.

But in reality David was simply experimenting, memorising the layout of the vehicles and devising ways to implant some of his improvised explosive devices in the most vulnerable places in the vehicle.

Fuel tanks.

Steering struts.

Brake systems.

He was nearly ready to proceed with his attacks!

Having such an unofficial job it would be virtually impossible for MNU to trace him as the culprit.

The resistance movement was now growing restless and expected results. And with David as the de-facto leader of the organisation, it fell to him to strike a blow against the humans!

In the early days before the forced segregation between the species, Barnaby remembered the trips into Johannesburg proper, for shopping and other sundries.

He remembered the pointing, the stares and the harsh words of revulsion…but even then, no actual hostility or violence.

The prawns would be bussed in and out of the city and were allowed one hour to do what they needed to do.

Then it was home, with no arguments and no pleading!

If you didn't have what you needed, then that was just hard luck!

Barnaby marvelled at the immaculately laid out human neighbourhoods as the bus passed through, which all appeared well looked after.

Later trips on the same bus would feature thick black out blinds pulled down over the windows, preventing humans looking in and the prawns looking out at them.

There was no poverty, no rubbish, no graffiti and no seemingly no crime in these human districts. But most of all there were no prawns, at all!

This seemed an alien concept in itself to Barnaby, were his kind not allowed to live here too?

He remembered asking his mother why they could not live here but she just scolded him to keep quiet and told him not to ask silly questions.

It is because she didn't really KNOW the answer, he reflected some years later.

Or didn't want to acknowledge the simple truth, humans didn't LIKE their kind, didn't WANT them here…

At least the kindly old bus driver had taken the time to learn some of their language, instead of barking the usual stock English or Afrikaans phrases:

GET OFF HERE.

BE BACK IN ONE HOUR OR I WILL LEAVE YOU AT THE MERCY OF THESE PEOPLE.

HURRY UP PRAWN.

YOU ARE LATE SCUM.

"I will see you soon, have a nice trip" he had often said.

Always cheerful and breezy, but then one day he had disappeared, rumoured to have been murdered.

It was sad not to see his smiles and waving after that.

That was the time when things began to get really bad for the prawns.

No more shopping trips and enforced segregation within District 9.

It was as if the public mood had finally soured and they wanted the aliens banished: out of sight, out of mind!

It now became apparent that they would have to fend for themselves, to fight each other for the meagre resources which trickled into the district from outside.

Everyday became a battle for survival and the only positive aspect was taking solace in cat food, like the humans did with alcohol.

It helped blot out the harsh reality of the situation.

Barnaby thought of all this while holding up his latest can of cat food to the sun, examining it and letting the tin glow in the light.

He sat on a junk heap, enjoying his 'lunch' and watching a prawn lurching from side to side, shouting up at the sky and babbling incoherently.

Other prawns moved about picking through the trash, scoring this and that, faces lit up at the prospect of another meal ticket.

Just then Martin appeared and sat down next to him.

"We are all set for our next meeting"

Barnaby nodded.

"But there has been another tragedy in our community"

Barnaby winced.

"A youngling, kidnapped by the Nigerians…and eaten, all under the eyes of MNU"

He wandered what the gangs or MNU would do to him if they knew he was the son of a rebel leader.

It was simply unimaginable.

"So what are we to do?" Barnaby asked.

"Simple, we are to show all humans that they cannot treat us like this anymore!"

"Do you think we can win?"

"Who knows, but at least we can make them sit up and take us more seriously in the future"

Chapter 4

The meeting was to take place at a 'community centre', in reality three shacks-in-one, belonging to another rebel leader, named Robert Atkins.

Atkins had served alongside David Forbes back on the ship and had lost his wife-let to 'The Sickness' and his son to MNU, fate unknown.

This latter fact he felt gave him particular cause to despise MNU and all of human kind!

Atkins had been the one to propose putting up resistance posters, in clear violation of MNU regulations.

But only a small elite within the 'prawn' race could actually find it in themselves to stand up and fight.

They weren't drones, they weren't bottom feeders and they weren't unpredictable and violent!

They were however capable of seeing the injustice going on here and planned to do something about it.

One of the attendees ushered the others in to the meeting and began to keep a lookout for MNU operatives or any other troublemakers.

Each and every one of them knew the penalty for staging such a gathering: instantaneous death!

Undeterred by this, six of the most prominent 'prawns' in the district had gone to Atkins' darkened shack to avenge the recent alien pogroms and stand up for their race.

David Forbes.

Martin Jones

Robert Atkins.

Barnaby Forbes.

Two other prominent prawns named Douglas Smith and Roland McConnell had also gathered here tonight.

"This situation is intolerable, how long must we wait for action?" Douglas Smith opened.

"Soon, I promise brothers…soon"

David Forbes replied.

Roland McConnell spoke next:

"My wife-let was being harassed the other day; they also threatened other members of my family!"

"They are being more brazen that is true brothers, should we be concerned that a bigger operation may be in the pipe line?" Martin asked.

"I think so" Barnaby spoke up.

All antennas and faces turned to face the son of the rebel leader.

"Through my work in the district I have learned of many kidnappings of our people, as well as the murders we all already know about. The humans forget that we have superior hearing to them and on many occasions I have overheard them mentioning the words 'forced relocation' and 'slaughter'…"

Metaphorical shock waves reverberated around the room.

This was new information to all present. After the events of a year ago, the official line had been to scrap moving the prawns to District 10.

Could there now be a change of heart in the humans?

"We have weapons and we have numbers, we should strike now!"

David Forbes added.

"But do we have the will to use them?" asked Douglas Smith rhetorically.

Chapter 5

Barnaby was dizzy with cat food fumes before he even took his next 'hit', a half eaten premium beef and rabbit concoction stolen from an unconscious prawn.

"Today we fight back then" Martin muttered next to him.

"Yes, we strike a blow for freedom!"

"Many of our comrades have been hoarding our own weaponry in secret places around the city, with even MNU unable to find them"

"Umm, hmm"

Barnaby was only half listening, enjoying more the sensation of the soft meat sliding down his 'throat'

"Before he died, my father told me of a place where the one and only super exo-suit from the home world vessel had been stored…do you want to see it?"

Barnaby had expected a trip to the headquarters of the Nigerian gangsters, to beg and plead with the ugly and disgusting humans for his own technology back…

Surprisingly they went straight past the Nigerian ghetto-within-a-ghetto and on for some distance, coming to a large steaming trash heap which oddly appeared to have no prawns scurrying in it.

A stinking great mound of rubbish, repulsive even to the accustomed noses of the prawns.

But beneath that pile of vegetation, discarded fridges, car parts and old nappies lay, according to Martin Jones, a salvation of sorts for their race.

Or at least, Barnaby thought as he struggled to form coherent thinking patterns, at least it was a way of evening out the headcount scores!

Bright colours danced in his vision and the world took on a shimmering quality…damn this cat food was good!

Still Barnaby and Jones excavated like mad men for some time, snarling at those prawns foolish enough to approach the 'Goliath' and his friend.

After a while they hit something hard and metallic. It was a dull silver colour, about the size of an average prawn and lay in a shallow recess in the soft earth…

They had uncovered a super exo-suit!

The super exo-suit was an advanced version of the normal bio suit, with improved weaponry, power cells and had also been fitted with a 'battle aura' force field device. This meant an invisible shield would cloak the suit when worn, doubly protecting the occupant inside.

At the foot of the suit lay a crate containing other weapons, amongst them tesla rifles and arc guns. Someone had obviously planned this weapons cache well!

"Do you think it will work?" Barnaby asked excitedly.

A curious crowd of onlookers had gathered, clicking and pointing.

"Of course, I co-designed this suit! It can survive anything, even burial in the putrid soil of this planet!"

"Let's see then"

Martin fiddled with a few switches, out of sight from everyone else.

Suddenly the suit 'came to life' with a hum, rising from the ground like a metallic Frankenstein and stood 'at ease' in front of the crowd. Some of the older prawns gasped in awe; they had heard the legends of this machine back home but had never actually SEEN one until now…

It dwarfed even Martin Jones and seemed to terrify the gathering prawns.

Without any further ceremony, Martin hopped inside the opened up front half of the suit, which then sealed him inside. The suit then turned to face Barnaby and through an amplified address system, Martin clicked at Barnaby to meet him later.

"You know where"

With that he leapt full fifty feet over the antenna of the other prawns before landing and bounding away. A glut of curious onlookers surrounded Barnaby, jostling him and asking him rapid fire questions.

"Is that our saviour?"

"Was that a fabled exo suit?"

"Will he be back?"

"Do you sell cat food?"

Ironically Barnaby was 'saved' from being mobbed by an MNU patrol, which arrived to break up the illegal prawn gathering in several vehicles.

"Move along now!" a voice bellowed through a loudhailer in English.

Another set of MNU agents went through the crowd tasering, clubbing and cattle prodding those too slow or stupid to move in time.

Barnaby simply disappeared into the shadows.

Chapter 6

Taking the long way round the rabbit warren of shacks, alleyways and trigger-happy MNU patrols, Barnaby doubled back on himself twice and arrived at the shack of one Jerome Peters, just after dusk had gathered.

Peters, well known in the district as a cat food 'pusher', was both loved and hated in equal measure.

He was hated by his own kind for using human Nigerian guards to protect his shack (along with their disgusting four legged creatures known as 'dogs')

But Peters was also loved at the same by his people for his seemingly endless supply of cat food and other good quality meats.

It was said he was the only one who the late Nigerian gang leader Obesandjo and his successor trusted to sell their products.

To some he was a hero, to others he was simply a traitor.

Getting past the human sentry had taken surprisingly little in the way of persuasion.

A low growl, a threat to break some Nigerian bones…

Barnaby lightly rapped on the shack door.

Tugging open the sheet metal, Peters showed only his face.

"Yes what is it? And how did you get past my guard?"

"I have some custom" replied Barnaby confidently.

"We are closed, go away"

Then a moment of recognition and Peters stepped boldly through the door, out into the artificial light above his porch.

He examined Barnaby closely, with familiarity flashing in his eyes.

"Wait a second; are you the son of the _great_ warrior Ritiko?"

Jerome Peters had been a subordinate to David Forbes on the ship and knew him well.

He walked round Barnaby, chortling to himself. Peters had a dull silver-with-purple splotches complexion and stood tall over Barnaby.

The use of David Forbes' true name, Ritiko, had thrown Barnaby.

"Yes that is true…"

He heard Jerome give out the prawn equivalent of a derisive snort.

"So what is the son of our great warrior doing coming to me at this hour trying to get his next fix?"

Years ago David Forbes had asked Peters to join the fledgling resistance group. Peters had turned him down cold, saying why would he want to change things and leave here?

He was rich beyond his wildest dreams with his 'business' venture and commanded a great deal of fear and respect in the district.

He had told Forbes that he was perfectly happy on this world and was NOT subordinate to him or anyone else for once!

"I need some more of the good stuff…please"

"Ha ha, you think you can just waltz in here with your demands and I will give you what you want, just like that?"

Barnaby said nothing.

"You have been living for too long amongst the humans if you think that!"

Then he held out one hundred _rand _cash.

"Is that it my friend? The son of Ritiko?!?"

Barnaby leant close in to Jerome, who recoiled in alarm.

"Do not be afraid…my OTHER payment consists of the location of a very smart pile of our weaponry, which might be worth exploring"

Even though he would be actively betraying the resistance movement, Barnaby desired his next fix more.

Chapter 7

Reluctantly and only after sending out a 'sniffer' team, did Jerome allow Barnaby his two cans of premium 'Super Kitties' cat food, known to be the best in the district by far.

But in doing so he had betrayed the cause for freedom in exchange for TWO measly tins of meat.

Suddenly they didn't seem so appetising after all. Any minute now and Peters would tip off MNU forces about the upcoming plan…

Ashamed of himself now, Barnaby slunk away, reluctant to return home and just about to polish off his first can of precious meat.

Unbelievable!

The silly pet food addict, son of Ritiko, had been right all along!

Getting former members of Obesandjo's gang to re excavate the rotten pile of trash, Jerome Peters had marvelled at the antiquated tesla rifles and prototype arc weapons.

"I thought I would never see these again, thought we had lost them to MNU!" the prawn beamed.

Imagine what his Nigerian paymasters would give him for these…

No!

He was his own person, a proud fellow. He would not give the human filth access to Poleepkwan artefacts of this value, their heritage and their secrets.

Besides they couldn't operate any of it anyway!

So he had it all carefully wrapped up and brought back to his shack.

Dawn broke.

Barnaby hadn't been home all night; he knew his parents would have been worried but still he felt good…the cat food buzzed right through him.

Kicking around loose pieces of rubbish around and jumping in water filled-potholes, all the while ignoring stares from passers by, he wondered why his people had not all come to this planet sooner.

It wasn't so bad after all, apart from the fucking brainless humans of course, but Barnaby knew his people were BETTER than them in every way.

They were faster, stronger, more adaptable and more intelligent. Even the 'drones' could outsmart a human, if they only turned their brains on!

The weather was ok here too, warm and pleasant. The city outside of the district fascinated him no end and the cat food….

Maybe he should throw his lot in with Jerome Peters, he seemed content after all!

The city occupied most of his racing thoughts now, that fenced out world of steel, glass, concrete and what the humans called 'automobiles'

Did they all treat each other as equals, man, woman and child?

Or did the humans also have their own underclass, like the way they marginalised the prawns?

'Johannesburg' they called this place in their own language, Barnaby didn't know what that meant but the place had fascinated him as a youngling. It was a big scary place.

Now he knew he had to go there, but how?

His missing son could not detract David Forbes, better known as Ritiko, from the mission.

Three MNU targets with three bombs.

One had already exploded downtown; a packed troop carrier had been destroyed during the early morning rush hour. Now two bombs, set with timers, remained.

Both devices had been planted during the 'maintenance' performed by Forbes on the MNU vehicles at his ramshackle workshop. But they were merely tools in a bigger armoury, another one of which stood next to David, towering above him. The exo-suit had been brought here by Martin Jones after being dug up the previous day.

However, word had reached David of treachery in the ranks. Cat food seller and all round criminal, Jerome Peters, had somehow found out the location of their weapons dump and had cleared it out!

Now he threatened to go to MNU with the whole stash unless Forbes and his co conspirators gave him the exo suit and one million _rand_, in cash, by midnight.

David shook his head dejectedly; he knew of only one conspirator with a severe enough addiction to cat food to warrant jeopardising the whole plan.

Barnaby reached of his second can in no time at all.

His head spun.

Now he had reached the door for the workshop next to his fathers shack. He stepped inside, his two brains racing and was immediately met by a stunning blow to the face.

In a normal state of mind he would have staggered and fallen, as it was he barely felt the punch.

However Forbes senior leapt on his son in a flash and pinned him down, hissing and landing punch after punch. Barnaby tried to fight, oddly giggling as his mouth filled with blood.

"NO OFFSPRING OF MINE IS A GODDAMN TRAITOR! I WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS BETRAYAL!" David shouted.

Still Barnaby laughed out loud.

Then David simply jumped up, approached the suit and set it to 'command' mode. Once it was alive, he instructed it to blow away the chuckling heap of broken plate-and-bones lying on the floor.

To kill his OWN son!

The exo-suit moved into position…but Barnaby grabbed and threw one of his father's tools at his head, knocking him out cold.

Then he clambered aboard the suit, destination Johannesburg!

Chapter 8

Meanwhile another bomb had taken out a second MNU vehicle and by this time the big organisation had cottoned on that something was amiss.

Always eager to blame the prawns, they rushed several divisions of armed troops to District 9.

Getting used to the suit had taken many trips, scrapes and bumps but at last Barnaby had mastered the controls, scattering prawns in his wake like frightened sheep as he ran.

Through the advanced electronic 'ears' of the suit Barnaby 'heard' the rumbling sound of approaching MNU forces, a noise all too familiar to him.

Charged up with anger and cat food ecstasy, he found the first truck and lifted the front end effortlessly off the ground, using the long arms of the suit. Once he had shaken all of the occupants out of the vehicle, he flung the truck away like a petulant child would do to a toy, not caring where it landed.

Then he began swiping and crushing the disorientated soldiers like ants, picking their weapons up with his 'claws' and clubbing them.

This was fun!

Another truck appeared and Barnaby blasted it with his 'shockwave' weapon, sending a wave of super charged air outwards like a mini hurricane.

This truck blew over, disgorging its human cargo. Other prawns had joined in now, attacking the soldiers.

Laughing all the way, Barnaby blasted them as well, sending them flying like scattered leaves on the wind!

Bullets pinged and whizzed past him, barely registering on the 'battle aura' as a slight ripple in the air.

Barnaby had blasted, flattened and shaken a whole division of men already and was only just warming up!

The exo-suit was incredible!

A white helicopter appeared in his vision, in amongst cascading alien script and computer generated imagery. It was immediately identified as MNU and therefore hostile. A red targeting reticule appeared around the chopper and it soon fluttered to earth, breaking up and on fire.

Nothing could stop him so he made for the perimeter fence of the district and his escape.

Chapter 9

A scene of complete devastation greeted the eyes of Martin, David and the rest of the resistance. Barnaby had really gone to town with the humans, to use one of their own phrases. He had even injured and nearly killed some of his own kind.

He was out of control; dead humans…destroyed vehicles, a massacre!

Now they would not be able to continue with any form of resistance and it would only be a matter of time before Jerome Peters, unable to claim the exo-suit, told MNU of the resistance cell.

MNU now conducted house to house searches of the district, looking for anything connected to the bombings. The events of this day, already branded as 'cowardly terrorist massacres' had seen the most serious alien backlash against the humans in over twenty years.

Now they were all completely and utterly terrified of what was going to happen next. Each and every one of them knew the prawns were inhuman monsters, but this was something else entirely. The death of a young girl in the final bomb explosion had sent public anger to new heights. Barnaby Forbes, despite acting completely alone, would inflame the situation only further. Martin sighed; this had not been part of the plan. Truth be known, none of them REALLY knew what the plan was, each simply wanted to strike a blow against the humans.

Today, in more ways than one, they had done just that.

With a bottle of beer in one hand and a plate of the finest pork chops (raw of course) in his other hand, Jerome Peters watched the events of the day unfold on the clapped out television in his shack.

It was like watching one of the humans so called 'football matches', hard to follow but quite exciting nonetheless!

As one of his last customers of the day was ushered out, he adjusted the volume on the set with the infrared pointing device or 'remote control' as the humans termed it.

Ticker tape style scrolling text, graphic video footage and sombre faced newscasters all reported untold devastation being visited upon Johannesburg by the prawns, and in District 9 itself.

Jerome snickered at the images of burnt and twisted MNU vehicles, with the various blown up bodies, a true sadist at heart.

"Why do they cry over a few dead humans? Do they not know what their own kind has been doing to us for many cycles?" Peters asked nobody in particular.

He popped another one of the chops in his mandibles, chewing loudly.

"Ritiko and his brethren sure know how to make a good impression with the locals don't they?" he said to his Nigerian bodyguard.

The man laughed along too. He always thought Peters as crazy as Obesandjo had been.

"Now they are really mad with us!" Peters went on.

Chapter 10

District 9 had always been conceived to be built underneath the alien vessel, which had eventually settled over the far northernmost suburbs of Johannesburg in an area near Midrand. This was so the prawns could be interned far away from any concentrated numbers of the human populace but still be within the city limits.

In the early days, when allowed to mingle freely with the humans, it had been a common sight to prawns fighting, begging or stealing in the city streets.

Now all contact between the species had been forbidden by MNU and the government, resulting in District 9 becoming an alien enclave.

So when an alien in a mechanised suit smashed through the perimeter fence, the locals had become understandably nervous.

The worlds of human and alien, separate for so long, would now violently collide.

This was set to be payback for the human's mistreatment of the prawns!

After receiving reports of a 'rampaging robot' MNU were quickly on the case. Following the trail of devastation out of the district, they caught up with Barnaby as he crossed the busy N1 eight lane highway into the city.

Instead of leaping across the traffic flow, as he could have easily done, Barnaby simply charged like a wild animal across each lane in turn.

Horns blew, cars, buses and trucks swerved…then rammed into each other. A chain reaction of collisions brought the inbound lane of the N1 to a complete standstill.

The deafening, electronically distorted sound of screeching brakes and crunching metal made Barnaby smile.

It was the sound of chaos!

He then mounted the central reservation barrier, surveying the destruction. It was completely satisfying for a prawn to witness this amount of human suffering. He then heard and saw the first wounded emerging their broken vehicles, and the approach of sirens.

He felt like firing off an arc round but another set of helicopters appeared. Barnaby set off for the outbound lane of traffic.

"We need to take down that godforsaken heap of alien shit now!" a voice boomed over the MNU radios.

"Yeah he has caused fucking chaos…look at the N1, never seen it in such a mess!" said another.

"Yeah but have you ever taken one of those things on man? It's near to fucking impossible!" a third man offered.

Causing surprisingly less damage in the second lane, Barnaby ran up the embankment and froze upon reaching the summit.

Chapter 11

A slum, just like the one he had left behind, lay before him. He had reached ANOTHER shantytown, located in Edenburg.

Smaller in size and without a prawn in sight, it definitely wasn't District 9.

For a start no MNU personnel could be seen, harassing the residents or burning down their nurseries. And there was no tall fence or watchtowers encircling the outer edge of the slum…

But still he was confused; humans living in a shantytown, only a few miles from District 9?

Surely not?

But it was all too real to him as he gingerly walked the suit closer to the slum itself.

Human children, resplendent in tatty dresses and ripped shorts, played in the dust. Barnaby noticed their ebony skin had kissed by the hot sun. Strange languages played out all around him, not the usual clicks or trills but perfectly formed sentences, some accompanied by laughter and other odd noises.

Barnaby cursed the lack of effective translation equipment in the suit, he wanted to converse with the humans, even though his parents had told him never to approach them as they were dangerous and untrustworthy.

Inevitably one of the human females, carrying a basket of washing, spotted the eight foot tall contraption nearing her children. She screamed and threw the basket at Barnaby in a futile attempt to scare him off.

Then the children bolted into a nearby dwelling, leaving behind their makeshift toys in the sand.

Toys just like those to be found in District 9, scavenged from bits of refuse, he thought sadly.

A series of sputtering clicks issued forth from the voice activated broadcast system as Barnaby he couldn't speak English.

This noise seemed to scare the humans more and scatter them like a flock of frightened birds.

There were no translation systems built in for Xhosa, Zulu or Afrikaans either, so it was hopeless trying to speak now.

The human mother then looked behind and beyond the big alien robot and saw MNU helicopters and personnel making a beeline for their slum. That made the thing dangerous, in her mind, so she grabbed her children and ran off.

Why couldn't they just fuck off and leave him alone? He wasn't born dangerous he just wanted to interact with the humans, in a non-violent way.

Why didn't the humans believe them when they said they were peaceful and hard working beings?

"You there, prawn, stop what you are doing and surrender!" a voice boomed from one of the helicopters. By now it had been joined by TV crews from the major networks, all buzzing overhead as well.

Barnaby sprung into action like a mechanical cheetah, running at full pelt from his pursuers. Up ahead of him loomed the skyline of Johannesburg proper, beyond the suburbs of Sandton and Northcliff. The whole view was accentuated by the absence of the mother ship, which had departed the year before.

Many residents of the city, whichever species they belonged to, had only now just begun to get used to looking up at the sky and seeing no alien vessel hovering above the cityscape.

Chapter 12

What had begun as a special news bulletin quickly began to turn into light entertainment for Jerome. Barnaby Forbes was loose in the city, in HIS exo-suit which by rights he SHOULD be in possession of!

Footage of an exo-suit running from MNU, taken by a news chopper, had the hysterical headline of 'DANGEROUS ALIEN TERRORIST RUNNING AMOK IN JOZI!' to accompany it.

"Terrorist…ha ha ha! What do you make of that?"

Peters turned to his 'guest' for the evening, Roland McConnell, for his answer.

The bronze coloured member of the resistance replied:

"With the suit gone and the other weapons in your…custody, the resistance is as good as done for"

"I could have told you that many years ago, only now the idiot son of the great Ritiko is out there causing havoc, the humans have all the excuse they need to exterminate our kind completely after this is all over…"

Roland looked solemn now.

"I concede that things may be different once this episode blows over"

"Different? You are damn right they will be!" Peters lamented, jumping to his feet.

"Have you, a great Poleepkwan visionary, no foresight? This is precisely the kind of thing the humans EXPECT us to do! For nearly thirty years resentment against us has quietly simmered, even though WE were the ones imprisoned in this bolt hole!

Now that they have seen what we are capable of for themselves…"

Roland knew it didn't bear thinking about, once the wrath of the entire human populace was turned on them, no amount of Poleepkwan gadgetry or weapons could stop them. Jerome Peters had now sat down and returned to eating his fresh chops and mumbling at the television, his ranting subsided for now.

It was at that moment that Roland turned his thoughts to Christopher Johnson. Where was he now? Would he ever return? Would help come with him?

Never before had their race been in such peril yet nobody else could help them apart from themselves. Aside from a few spirited leaders, the mainstream prawn population were akin to mindless drones, termites all in a nest without a queen.

Even at their hour of greatest need, the prawn workers simply carried on with their daily existences, unaware of the impending danger.

Would it now come down to people like Jerome Peters, surrendering and actively embracing humanity instead of fighting it? Was that the answer to all of their problems?

After today there may not be a District 9 or Poleepkwan race at all to answer those questions!

"So what are we to do now Peters?"

"Forget all these big ideas of resistance and putting down the humans, we are here to stay now and we might as well get used to the fact"

"You mean adapt, integrate…"

"Exactly, our species has done this sort of thing before, just look at me for inspiration! Besides Christopher Johnson won't be coming back and why should he? This place is a shithole and why should he care what happens to the rest of us, I know I wouldn't!"

Chapter 13

The first warnings of low power flashed up in alien script on the display floating in front of Barnaby. He had also begun to feel woozy from the cat food, a sort of prawn hangover. But how could there be low power? Barnaby reasoned this was because the machine had been buried for two decades and not recharged in that time.

Strangely enough, even after the events of the day, the government had not ordered a general shutdown of the city nor had they implemented a security crackdown. The buses, metro service and all airports were all open for business as usual. It therefore came as a bit of a shock to see a prawn exo-suit running along the Midtown Expressway, in the heart of the city and dropping off to the street below. In the minds of the humans, this represented the next phase in the alien terrorist attacks and they fled in terror.

But Barnaby, growing groggier by the minute, had begun to tire of running and fighting.

MPD units had sealed off the streets and MNU reinforcements also arrived.

Angered by this, Barnaby fired off a volley of energy grenades and then shot off his twin arc-cannons. Within seconds the human barricades were in flames, although no personnel had been killed.

Its okay, he thought, looking around him as reality began to sink in, I will not going to fight anymore.

He would just let MNU pick him up, give him a beating and then dump him at the gates of District 9, just like they had done many times before. He fell on one 'knee' in the exo-suit, opening up the front panel of the suit and rolling out.

Jerome laughed again, the ticker headline now read: 'ALIEN APPEARS FROM INSIDE SUIT, MNU MOVE IN!'

But the humans were not in a forgiving mood, realising from past experience that tear gas, rubber bullets and tasers would barely faze a prawn, so MNU went for the lethal option.

Taking no chances, they zeroed in on Barnaby Forbes and blasted at him with every weapon they had. In front of millions of viewers, he danced and jerked and spun until he fell down, dead, with black alien blood spilling in the streets of Johannesburg.

It was to end up as the humans revenge for the days events, seeing a prawn executed live on air for the first time. They wanted to see many more in the future.

MNU now had the exo-suit and Roland watched as Jerome Peters instructed his bodyguard to help him exact his own revenge, taking on David Forbes and the other 'resistance fighters'

Some hours later, David Forbes sat on the bench directly across from Martin Jones and the other members of the resistance, manacled and wearing special claw-cuffs. He regarded each of them in turn as the big MNU custody truck took them downtown to their headquarters.

The only one conspicuous by his absence was Roland McConnell, thought to have 'gone over' to Peters and his inter-species criminal gang.

MNU agents had kicked down each of their shack doors after Peters gave them away as part of resistance cell and handed them a sample of prawn weaponry, in exchange for immunity from harassment or prosecution.

After his son had been killed live on television, the humans had been baying for more prawn blood. Once they made the connection between Forbes' group and the bombings, he had no doubt they would get more than just blood.

There was to be no escape!


End file.
